


Transgressions

by eatingcroutons



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (Or is it?), Consent discussions, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Percival Graves's Coat, Relationship Discussions, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatingcroutons/pseuds/eatingcroutons
Summary: Written for the kinkmeme prompt:Credence owes Graves, doesn't he?After his rescue, the original Percival Graves is the only wizard willing to take in the Obscurial Credence Graves. Despite the risks, Graves feels protective of the other man Grindelwald used and exploited.Along the way Graves may have developed some less platonic feelings as well. Which puts him in a difficult situation when he finds Credence naked in his bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to [Zwaluw](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zwaluw/works) for their beta help on this one! <3

The third time one of the after-hours elves comes to check on him, Percival calls it a night. He checks his pocket watch: 11:23pm. He can already hear the Healers reminding him yet again about the importance of rest, but it’s been over four months now. At some point he has to return to his normal routines.

He gathers up his things, considering where to apparate. Maybe the phone booth around the corner, this time. Nice open space. He clips up his suitcase, draws his wand, and focusses.

A moment of pressure and he’s there, pressing his back against the phone booth. He turns quickly to scan the streets in all directions, keeping his wand up in front of him.

There’s nobody in sight. 

He takes a steadying breath, and slips his wand back into his pocket – but keeps his hand on it as he walks the last few hundred yards back to his home.

At some point he has to return to his normal routines. But some things are harder to forget than others.

He rounds the last corner, throwing another quick look around the street, and draws his wand as he climbs the steps. A flick of his wrist unlocks the door. He steps over the threshold, wand at the ready – but the house is dark, quiet, exactly as it should be.

He casts a quick _revelio_ to be sure, and a sweep of his wand confirms the various intruder charms he’s set up are still in place. Finally relaxing, Percival sets down his briefcase and locks the door behind him.

He loosens his tie as he toes his shoes off, trying not to make too much noise. Percival is firmly on the side of the Healers when it comes to Credence getting _his_ rest; the boy deserves some peace. Percival can learn to make adjustments for that.

He treads carefully down the hall, leaving his briefcase in the study along the way. As he steps into his bedroom he casts a quick charm to illuminate the room – and stops short.

Credence is on his bed.

Fast asleep… and completely naked.

Percival’s first, absurd thought is, _He’ll catch a cold._

His second is that he’s never seen Credence look so peaceful. He’s lying on his side, curled partly in on himself, and in sleep the boy’s face has lost that carefully composed neutral expression he so rarely lets slip. Percival can’t help a fond smile as he watches Credence breathe softly through parted lips, dark eyelashes stark against his pale cheeks.

He tries valiantly to pretend that there is no third thought. Wanting to protect the boy is one thing. Wanting to touch him… Percival follows the line of Credence’s jaw to his throat, his shoulder. The pale skin of his back, crossed faintly with old thin scars. Tries not to stare at the long, lean legs stretched out across Percival’s blankets.

No, some thoughts are definitely best ignored.

Credence shivers slightly, knees curling up towards his chest, and Percival is across the room in three strides. He hesitates just shy of laying a hand on Credence’s shoulder, reluctant to wake him.

As luck would have it, a moment later Credence makes a soft sound, frowning, and blinks open his eyes. Percival jerks his hand back guiltily, and Credence’s eyes go wide when he sees Percival standing over him.

“Mr Graves, I…” Credence trails off and glances down at himself. His cheeks flush pink as he pulls his knees up further, brings his arms in to cover his chest. Percival looks away, swallowing hard.

“Um,” he says, then falters, trying not to think about now smooth Credence’s skin would be under his fingertips. “I. Hang on.” He shrugs out of his coat, shaking it out to its full length, and lays it out to cover as much of the boy as he can. Credence tugs the collar up to his chin, not meeting Percival’s eyes.

It’s still hard to believe that someone with such power can look so vulnerable.

“Credence, do you… you seem to have fallen asleep in my bed.” _Naked_ , he doesn’t add.

Credence flushes even more, but doesn’t reply.

For a long moment neither of them moves. Percival can see Credence’s shoulders rise and fall under the coat, breathing too quickly for someone just woken from a deep sleep. Concerned for the boy’s health, he’s about to reach out to feel his forehead when Credence moves, shifting under the coat and working his way into a sitting position. The coat slips off one pale, slender shoulder, exposing Credence’s collarbone, and Percival is torn between wanting to trace his fingers along the line of it and wanting to tug the coat back up.

“Mr Graves.” Credence’s voice is soft, but when he looks up Percival is surprised by the intensity in those dark eyes. “I wanted to…” Credence bites his lip, glancing away briefly. “You’ve been very kind to me. Done so much for me. Knowing what I am. What I could do. And I know I haven’t done anything for you in return, not like you’d expect.”

Percival frowns. Why bring this up now, of all times? “‘Expect’? Credence, I don’t –”

“Please Mr Graves, I – I see the other wizards, I know what they – I want to repay you. And I know there’s not much I can offer.” Credence’s flush now reaches all the way down to that collarbone, and Percival finds himself struggling to concentrate on what the boy is saying. It’s been a very long day.

Credence shifts again, dropping his feet to the floor beside the bed. He clutches the coat around his shoulders, and Percival takes half a step backwards as he stands up. They’re suddenly very, very close, and Percival has the awful suspicion that he knows where Credence might be going with this.

“Credence,” he says carefully, holding the boy’s gaze, “I don’t expect anything from you. I know you don’t have anything to repay me with. It’s all right.”

“But I do, Mr Graves.” Credence stands up straighter, and Percival always forgets that Credence is taller than him until he’s right _there_. He silently begs Merlin that this isn’t what he thinks, but – “I have myself.”

Percival’s mouth goes dry. Before he can find the words to object, Credence slowly, hesitantly lets the coat fall to the floor.

“I’ve seen how you look at me.” Credence is speaking more quickly now, not quite meeting Percival’s eyes. “And everyone – everyone already assumes, and I owe you so much, I –”

“Stop.” Percival’s voice sounds as raw as his throat feels. He’s not even going to touch _everyone always assumes_ ; there will be hell to pay when he finds out who _everyone_ is, but that’s something to deal with later.

“Mr Graves?” Credence’s brow furrows just a little, his eyes betraying that same desperate need for approval that Percival has seen far too often and oh, Merlin. He closes his eyes.

“Please, Credence. Could you just… put the coat back on, for a minute?” He steps backwards, turns away to give the boy some privacy, and tries to quash his body’s reaction to this beautiful young man literally offering himself to Percival on a silver platter. _Boy_ , he reminds himself. _He’s twenty-three years old, and he’s in your care._

He counts to thirty before turning back. When he does he finds Credence sitting on the edge of the bed with his knees tucked up, clutching Percival’s coat around himself, head bowed. His shoulders are trembling, and before Percival can think better of it he sits down next to the boy, puts an arm around him. Credence stiffens for a moment, then lets out a shaky breath and leans into Percival’s side.

“I’m sorry,” Credence says, barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, Mr Graves, I know I’m not…”

“Shh.” Percival strokes the boy’s shoulder, holds him close. “It’s all right, Credence. You don’t have anything to apologise for. But I need you to listen to me for a minute, all right?”

Credence sniffs and nods, tugging Percival’s coat tighter around his shoulders. Percival closes his eyes for a moment, considers how to approach this.

“First of all, you don’t owe me anything.” Credence starts to make a noise of protest but Percival squeezes his shoulder. “Shh. You don’t. It’s no hardship for me to have you in the guest room, and I feel better knowing that you’re here, protected, when you aren’t with MACUSA. This was my decision. All right?”

Credence still has his head bowed, but after a few moments he nods again.

“Secondly –” Percival pauses, exhales. “This is very important, Credence. You never, ever owe _yourself_ to someone. Not in that way.” He keeps his voice carefully even, swallows his rage at the very idea. He swears to Gondolphus, people will be _fired_ for this.

“If you ever…” Percival pinches the bridge of his nose, looking for the right words. “Sex is something that should only happen when everyone involved really, truly wants to do it, for themselves. Not for anyone else. Do you understand?”

Credence had tensed up at the word _sex_ , but he’s still curled against Percival’s side. After a long moment he nods, slowly.

“I understand.” He pauses, and Percival can feel the tension in his shoulders again, like he’s bracing for something. “So you… you don’t want to… with me…”

Percival bites his tongue, hard, to drive away the mental images. “Credence, I… I don’t want to do anything with a partner who feels obliged or indebted to be with me. That wouldn’t be something they truly wanted to do.”

Another long pause. Credence turns his head into Percival’s shoulder, and when he speaks again it’s muffled, almost inaudible. “So… if I wanted to… for myself…”

_Merlin give me strength._

“Credence,” he begins, floundering for an excuse, a way to explain what a _terrible idea_ that would be without sounding like a rejection. “Credence… you’ve gone through a lot in the past four months. You've lost your family, been thrown into a whole new world. It’s going to take time for you to adjust.”

He gives Credence’s shoulder another squeeze. “And I think… you should give yourself that time, to figure out how you fit into this life, before you think about sharing it with someone else.”

Credence doesn’t reply for a long minute. Percival keeps stroking over his shoulder, feeling him gradually relax under the touch. When Credence finally nods again Percival thanks the stars for small mercies.

“All right.” Percival pats Credence’s shoulder one last time before letting him go. “Shall we get you back to your own room?”

Credence takes a deep breath, in and out, then nods and unfolds his legs. Percival stands up with Credence to walk him down the hall, one hand at the small of his back.

When they reach the guest bedroom Credence stops and turns, looking Percival in the eyes for the first time since Percival turned him down. “Thank you, Mr Graves,” he murmurs. “I… thank you.”

Warmth blooms in Percival’s chest and he steps forward to give the boy a hug. “Go, get some proper sleep. Just leave my coat out in the hall by morning.”

Credence gives a small smile and then shuts his door.

Back in his own room Percival flops onto his bed, still in his clothes. Stares at the ceiling and tries not to imagine Credence lying there with him. Merlin’s beard, the boy deserves so much better than a shell-shocked middle-aged Auror.

As for whoever managed to plant the idea that Credence _owed_ Percival his body – Percival still can’t quite believe anyone at MACUSA would have implied such a thing. Not that they don’t have their bad eggs, but surely no good wizard would ever –

His blood runs cold.

No _good_ wizard. But a Dark one…

Percival swears softly, running a hand down his face. The man who had held out Credence’s very freedom as a privilege to be earned surely wouldn’t be above trading other favours. All while wearing Percival’s body.

And not fifteen minutes ago Percival had been thinking of touching the boy himself.

He sits up on the bed, rests his forehead on his knees. He feels sick.

Without looking, he summons the bottle of scotch from the dresser across the room, and resigns himself to another sleepless night.


End file.
